


It's about the power.

by millygal



Series: Fanfic Wish List [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dark, M/M, Masturbation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Samifer - Freeform, Stolen Memories, Stolen Moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 07:48:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10759881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/pseuds/millygal
Summary: If he could, Sam would cry tears hot enough to burn.





	It's about the power.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [badbastion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/badbastion/gifts).



> Thanks go as always to jj1564 who works her very fine ass off being my beta (especially the last six months, lol) This is for badbastion for her #3 Prompt on her Fanfic Meme Wishlist.
> 
> SPN - Lucifer/Sam, power
> 
> This took a serious turn for darkness, but I thoroughly enjoyed getting my mitts on Lucifer and Sam.

Staring at himself in the mirror, staring at _himself_ in the mirror, Sam feels a stress headache pulsing at the temples he no longer controls.

The fingers he can’t make move itch to rub against the sides of his head, to relieve some of the tension building behind his eyes.

There’s something eerily familiar about this particular rabbit hole and then it hits him.

**_“I'm sitting in a laundr-o-mat reading about myself sitting in a laundr-o-mat reading about myself. My head hurts.”_ **

_You have no idea, Dean._

Sam can _feel_ his limbs, his heart beating, his nose twitching from the stench of dead demons littering the floor at **his** feet, but he can’t make his body respond. Aside from the fact it’s terrifying watching a creature wearing your skin decimating everything _you_ touch, it’s fucking frustrating not being able to reach up and scratch your own damned nose.

_Lucifer?_

**Yes, Sammy?**

_It’s Sam._

**Apparently so. Yes, Sam?**

_Stop._

**And why would I do that?**

That’s a good question. One which Sam pondered as Lucifer used his hands to snap the necks and rip out the unbeating hearts of those demons who’ve been dogging him for years.

Why would Lucifer stop? He has everything he needs now to create hell on Earth, and take Michael/Adam down with him. Sam stocked up on wheaties and _still_ he can’t pry the dark tendrils of Lucifer’s essence from his body.

Moron.

How exactly did he think this was going to go?

Let the beast in and hope for the best, like always.

Dean knew, Dean knew and he still let him because they were out of options.

They’re both morons.

**You’re not a Moron, Sam. And as much as it pains me to admit it, neither is your brother.**

_Stop eavesdropping._

**It’s not eavesdropping if it’s in my head, Sam.**

_It’s not **your** head._

**And yet I can run my fingers through all of your memories. Every moment from birth to rebirth. All mine to play with as I see fit. _Feels_ like my head, Sam.**

_Rebirth?_

**This, this is a rebirth; you have been reborn into a world where nothing is off limits.**

_I hate you._

**Oh come now, Sammy, we both know that’s not true. I’m in your head, remember? You might loathe the idea of me, but the feeling of power pulsing around your veins is something you very much love. That power comes from me. I’m just _that_ impressive.**

Sam wonders if Lucifer’s going to get with the world ending any time soon because if he has to listen to that smug fuck go on and on about how fabulous he is for another second, Sam may go off the reservation insane.

He wishes Dean were here. His brother was always in charge of snappy comebacks and cutting put-downs. Right now Sam’s head is so full of Lucifer he can’t see straight, let alone knock out a pun or two.

The thought of Dean brings a slew of memories crashing into his consciousness and Sam desperately tries to push them back, stamp down on them so Lucifer can’t get his sticky blood covered hands on them.

They’re _Sam’s_. They’re not for some two-bit Angel to use as leverage.

**Two-bit? I’m hurt, Sammy.**

_This is getting real old, real fast. Stop poking your nose into my thoughts._

**I keep trying to tell you, Sammy, I can’t help it. I’m in your body wearing your skin, the thought process comes with, or it does if I let you stay awake.**

Sam panics. If he were capable he’d throw up from blind terror at the thought of being shut away in a dank corner of his own mind, whilst Lucifer uses his body to do whatever it is fallen angel’s do when they want to break their brother’s neck.

_Don’t. Please. Just **Don’t.**_

**There are other ways to amuse yourself - myself - Sam. We could take a quick stroll down memory lane and see if the bets my demons have been running a book on for the last few years are going to pay off.**

As Lucifer’s words ring crisp and clear in Sam’s mind, he’s bombarded with images of Dean; naked, sweaty, begging.

**Dean _begs_?**

_Stop it._

Sam feels the beginnings of a stirring that’s so intrinsically linked to his brother that he doesn’t pay it any attention, not until Lucifer begins to purr. A deep, throaty, obscene sound that sets Sam’s metaphorical teeth on edge.

_Don’t you **dare.** They’re mine._

**They feel like they’re mine, Sammy. They tickle, in all the best places.**

Sam watches his own hand slide beneath the waistband of jeans now saturated in blood and gore. The viscera’s had enough time to begin to dry, making the denim crack as Lucifer wraps Sam’s fingers around his cock.

_You’re a pig._

White hot searing agony explodes behind Sam’s eyes and if he could, he’d be crawling on the floor and crying.

**I am an Angel, Sam. I’m _THE_ Angel. Show some respect.**

Sam has two options; sink down into the abyss that Lucifer’s created in his soul, or stay and fight. Fight with everything he has to try and stop the Angel desecrating memories which have kept the Hunter sane through the continued craziness.

Fight, always fight.

As Lucifer begins to fist Sam’s cock, Sam’s consciousness beats itself against the wall in his brain, throwing himself at it over and over and over until his mind is bruised and bloody.

Sam screams and shouts, hollers curses and threats he can’t follow through on, and Lucifer chuckles.

He laughs loudly at Sam’s fury before tilting his head and staring into the mirror. “That’s it, Sammy. That fire will fuel us both.”

Lucifer speeds up, flicking his borrowed wrist at an unearthly rate, and has to reach out and grab the wall or he’ll end up on the floor, writhing around in a mess of foulness no Angel of the Lord should ever have to come into contact with. “Fuck, Sam. You’ve been holding out on me, this is, this is _heavenly_.”

_Dean’s mine, you son of a **bitch**. Those memories are **MINE**._

Sam feels sick to his non-existent stomach as he watches image after image of Dean on bended knee with his lips wrapped around Sam’s cock, come flooding in behind his eyelids.

Each memory is more precious than the last and with each captured moment in time comes a sharp hit of satisfaction radiating from Lucifer’s mind, enveloping Sam in a sense of futility that threatens to drown him.

Sam’s connection to Dean is so embedded that his body responds even when he isn’t in charge of it and it doesn’t take long for Lucifer to crumple; crying out, spilling seed that doesn’t belong to him down jeans already caked in vital fluids.

The sound of his voice calling out Dean’s name sends Sam completely over the edge, forcing him to relinquish the fragile grip he has on his mind.

As Sam’s consciousness folds into Lucifer’s, the Angel finds himself slightly disappointed in his vessel’s lack of teeth. He felt sure Sam would hold on for dear life, for Dean’s life.

The lack of constant yammering will probably do him some good anyway; space to breathe and think and plot, and enjoy the remaining shivers running along Sam’s spine.

“Onwards and upwards. I got me a brother to kill, and a world to rule.”

Despite the silence in his head, Lucifer can still feel the tiny sparks of defiance emanating from somewhere within.

Maybe Sam’s not out of the game after all.

 

 

Fin.


End file.
